Ye Gods!
by Monitor
Summary: Rating to be safe. Rewrite of unfinished story. When Joad was little, her father taught her about Mandalor folklore. Her favorite Gods had been the Gods of irony. When irony was afoot, it was said you could hear them laughing and snickering. Joad swe
1. Stranded, Alone, and Totally Welcome

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for the plot and Joad. The rest belongs to the geniuses.**  
  
**Summary: When Joad was little, her father taught her about Mandalor folklore. Her favorite Gods had been the Gods of irony. When irony was afoot, it was said you could hear them laughing and snickering. Joad swears she can hear them now.  
  
This is a redo of a previous story that I decided to go back and read while I was picking it up again. You know what? I hated it. So, here it is, all sparkly and new, fresh off the press! Well, not really fresh, since it will take me a day of two to write the first dang chapter, and not off the press, seeing that would be illegal, as this is a spin-off of a famous-type story. And the fact that there is no press for the Internet....**  
  
Ye Gods! Chapter 1

Stranded, Alone, and Totally Welcome  
  
Inside the ship, the scream of the cannons could be heard all too well and were deafening. Outside, however, there was total silence. Even the last cries of the pirates, granted that they could squeak one out, were lost to all before they were atomized. Even if they could be heard across the empty space that separated the battling ships, Joad Fett would not be bothered by them. If one let death cries get to you in her business, one would go insane, or drop out and leave room for the heartless.  
  
Her cold dark eyes stayed on the front window and the various screens that adorned it that followed the other ships. He hands flew over the controls and she barked out various commands that her ship followed to the word. She was confident in all that she did, yet a trickle of sweat rolled down her face and dripped off her nose. Others slid down and ran by her temples. She was alert to everything, to ever flashing light on her control board to every ship that bombarded her; she was full of adrenaline. Nothing could knock her out of her concentration. Even when she blasted a second ship to atoms, in every sense of the word, she had no time to celebrate.  
  
So later, looking back, she had no idea what had gone wrong.  
  
She was annihilating her attackers, who she had no idea who they were. She suspected that they were more than simple pirates, for they would have fled by now if they were. There were two more ships yet, and she still had the odds staked up against her. Any idiot could pilot a ship and kill people, and to outsmart those idiots, one had to use nasty tricks that often resulted in the death of the opponent, which was their purpose. The joy of it was, her father, the notorious Boba Fett (a/n: if you're making disgusted sounds right about now with the whole 'daughter of Fett thing' because I would be, you can read 'Mistakes Happen' which is not, I repeat, not some gushy Fett romance. Not a romance at all!) had made them up during his youth, and some of them where of her own invention. She gave one of her maneuvers a try. With some talented flying skills, she pulled her ship, much sleeker and flatter than Slave I, in to a fast sideways spin, the intent of which was to take her past her attackers in a seemingly out-of-control way.  
  
It was a good move and may have fooled others, but it still needed improvement and a blast rocked her ship, which sent it reeling out of control. Another blast which broke her restraint strap and she flew across the cockpit. Dazed, Joad struggled to her feet and fund that the gravity was off- a very bad sign. She propelled herself toward her helmet, floating on the other side of the room, then, as she shoved it on her head, a calm voice echoed calmly through the halls.  
  
"All passengers are to evacuate the ship immediately."  
  
Why did they make those voices so damn calm? Joad composed self was shaken just has the ship now shook under the fire of her attackers. The lights in the hallway dimmed and flashed and Joad pulled herself through the door. She glided down the narrow hallways toward the escape pod with the calm woman's voice in her ears the entire way. If anyone else saw her, they may have compared her with a black and red wraith from the smoothness of her glide. After what seemed ages and more explosions than comfort allowed she reached the escape pod and swung inside. The door hiss closed behind her and she could hear and feel the pod leave the ship and blast away. (Little known Fact: due to most of the users of escape pods being blasted to smithereens by the attackers that forced them to evacuate in the first place, the Escape Pod Inc. made their products fast appose to slow, which is the reason thy are that way.)  
  
Joad had never been in an escape pod before, but she had always supposed that the ride was smoother than what she was now experiencing. She was thrown from side to side, and tossed this way and that. After what seemed hours of brutal lurching, Joad felt her pod hit something hard, hopefully a planet. The striking of it, as well as going through the atmosphere, was by no means more pleasant than the ride. When a calm female voice told her that it was safe to exit, and the door hissed open, Joad was sure she would feel relief at being out of the terrible enclosed space of the escape pod.  
  
But something was wrong. The feeling prickled along her skin, down to her toes and up her legs, down her arms, up the base of her neck. More importantly, her gut twisted dangerously. Yes, something was very wrong.  
  
And then it struck her. Joad looked down suddenly as the breeze ruffled her hair and brushed the cloth around her legs. Her armor! Where was it?  
  
Joad tried to suppress a shriek of pure terror, but succeeded only in falling backwards with a squeak into the escape pod. No, Joad was not in the nude. She was wearing strange clothes, clothes that she had not seen before, ever.  
  
"Zarking podo," she growled, climbing to her feet. "Were the zarkit did these come from?" one hand strayed to her hip for her absent blaster while the other gripped air for a knife she didn't have. She turned circles, eyes the dark forest that surrounded her. Was it a mind trick? Were the Jedi toying with her? Was it the Sith, even though they were, theoretically, dead? Or maybe she had received a good knock on the head and had gone insane.  
  
Gradually, the forest, the trees that were unharmed reached above her to block out the sunlight, remained silent. Joad's eyes darted around, but without the aid of her helmet, she could not see as far as she would have liked. Unable to do anything but, she let off a long string of words which would have made a less mature teen blush, or laugh, depending on who you know. Once determining that nothing was going to jump her from the forest, at least until she turned her back, and that silence was its natural state, she entered the escape pod once again to look for her missing armor. Finding nothing, she returned to the forest to sit dejectedly on a rock near the pod.  
  
What had gone wrong, anyway? Joad made a mental list of all the weapons she had used that day. Nothing strange there. Where had she been? An outer-rim planet where if you shouted the name 'Boba Fett' in the middle of a crowded market square, they would look at you strange, or not at all, and go about their lives none the wiser. Then she had gone to Nal Hutta. That was where someone would sabotage, if sabotage it was, her ship. Sabotage was the only thing Joad could think of that could have gone wrong. Either that or that her mysterious attackers were better than her first impressions, which she highly doubted. But that just did not sound right.  
  
The merchandise had been this old man who ran an antique shop with stunning blue eyes. She remembered his eyes because they hadn't quivered from her stare. He had fixed his eyes on to where her eyes were, which was creepy in itself because the point of her mask was so people couldn't tell, but the eyes had been such a riveting blue. He came quietly enough, rattling on about how this owner, her implorer oddly enough, had just insisted on buying this cupboard for his wife, who would just love it. Unfortunately, the antique merchant hadn't wanted to sell that cupboard because it had a nasty habit of 'eating' people and putting them in odd places, unharmed, usually, but always in a frightened condition. The buyer had then brought out the big guns and had forced the old man to sell it to him, at half price, no less! Joad had not paid any attention to this, but he had her interested in his shop. Unable to fight her growing curiosity of his shop as he prattled on about all that he sold, she stowed him safely away and went to have a peek.  
  
That was, of course where the trouble had started.  
  
Joad had never seen a book before. She had never even heard of them, so, naturally, it caught her eye. It was small, pocket sized if you cared to carry it with you, and had a hard blank cover with minute decorative latched made of polished silver. It was a dusty red and the binding black, and the whole thing cracked with age and just sitting there on the shelf. The pages were yellow and quite stiff, and-  
  
Joad ran a hand along the black robes that fluttered around her in the breeze. There it was, in a side pocket, like the pocket was made just for that book. Joad pulled it out and stared at it. She had read it some of it, skimming it mostly, on the way from Nal Hutta. She had gotten to the last page and had time to think about it before the mysterious foe had attacked.  
  
And now your journey begins... it had said. What was that supposed to mean anyway? And what kind of ending was that? It wasn't even a story, more like a guide book. It was all very imaginative really, this little world, with a government and history, not less. It was a 'How to Survive in My Made-Up World' guide book, for surly all the things in the book were not real. Right? Right?  
  
Joad took out the book and unclipped the fine buckles and opened it to the first page, expecting to see what she had first seen- and promptly dropped it.  
  
_Come now Joad, you're being silly._ The letters faded away. _Look to your left._ And Joad looked. There, sitting oh so innocently a few feet away was a domed-top wooden trunk with metal studs and bindings. The book fluttered a little on the ground to grab her attention. _Stop dawdling and start walking...and keep this book open!  
_  
Naturally suspicious, Joad's eyes narrowed. "Why should I trust what you're telling me to do?"  
  
_What else can you do?_ Joad imagined a exasperated voice to go along with the words. _Head toward the big oak and keep in a straight line. You'll know when you get there.  
_  
"Where?" Joad's voice was monotone, with a dangerous edge. No matter how talkative (ok, ok, writative) the book had been earlier, it remained silent now. With out a sound, though inside Joad was bursting with frustration, Joad rose to her feet and walked cautiously towards the trunk. She flipped the locks and sprung it open and jumped back in one movement. Nothing happened. The trunk sat placidly with its top wide open for all the world to see. Joad peeked in and saw, staked neatly, clothes similar to the ones she was wearing, along with a broomstick, which she had never seen before either, and another smaller stick. Beneath those were thick text books and under those....  
  
Joad picked up her helmet and put her forehead to its cold surface reassuringly. She considered putting on her armor.  
  
The book rustled. _Don't put that on. It's not the kind of things the natives wear._ Joad read the message and turned away, digging for more of her black and red weaponry to make sure it was all there. The book rustled again. _You're_ trying _to fit in. Now get moving_.  
  
Joad sighed and put her helmet away under all the clothes and books. Before she closed the trunk, she grabbed the book and tossed it in there. She saw a quick _Hey!_ Before slamming the trunk shut and locking it. It must be some kind of advanced technology with a computer chip inside disguised as an old book, she figured. They could make robots with personality, and there could be a hidden camera to look at what she was doing.  
  
And so, figuring this and with nothing else to do, she started off. The forest was dank and dark, and it remained eerily silent. The rustle of leaves in the underbrush, the faraway sound of hooves, the occasional hoot of owls and evil-sounding chatter of the black squirrels in the treetops, it all was there to create a totally creepy environment.  
  
But as she walked on, dragging her trunk over gnarly roots and snagging plants, Joad began to notice that the trees were thinning, and, without loosing any of its menacing aura, little bits of sunlight squirmed through the branches. A little trail appeared and Joad stepped on to it. It appeared well-used and defined; obviously some kind of sentient beings lived on the planet for the trail was more than a simple game path.  
  
Joad was fit and strong, so dragging the trunk was not a problem for her. What tugged at the back of her mind was, if she was attacked, she would have to fight hand to hand combat. Not that that was particularly unnerving for her, as she had been trained for that all her life, but that she had no idea what lived on this planet. She decided it was worth the time to get a blaster out; if she was confronted by natives who seemed too primitive for it, she could simply hide it in her robes until she could put it safely in her trunk.  
  
_You're not as bright as you pretend to be._  
  
"Oh, shut up." She grabbed a blaster and slammed to lid closed. With a blaster in her hand, Joad felt much more confident then she had previously. And then suddenly, she came to the end of the forest.  
  
A building loomed nearby, made of stone and there were what must have been more than a hundred towers. A giant lake expanded out beyond that, and all around the castle and lake was the forest Joad had just walked through.  
  
Somewhere to her right a door slammed. Joad turned, blaster aimed, her initial shock at seeing a giant stone structure forgotten. There was a little round hut with a thin wisp of smoke coming from the crocked tin chimney; behind it in a little garden, were a variety of strange plants, the majority of which were small, round-ish, and bright orange. Behind the hut a ways was a stone paddock that looked as though more than half of it continued into the forest.  
  
But Joad didn't see any of that. Her eyes and blaster were trained on the being coming toward her. Hesitantly, since he looked primitive and friendly, Joad slipped the blaster out of sight.  
  
Her first thought was that it was a wookie walking toward her, for it was certainly big enough to be, and it looked hairy enough. But then she saw that it was wearing clothes and boots and had a specifically human gait. When it got closer, she saw it was a man; she could see his beaming smile underneath his tangle of wild black hair. He had black eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled and his big arms were open in welcome.  
  
When he got close enough to talk to her, he said in a jolly, loud voice:  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts!"

**What'd ya think? I like this version MUCH better than the other one.**


	2. First Dinner

Thank you very very much Infamous One for reviewing...even if you be the only one.

Chapter 2  
  
The First Dinner  
  
Joad sat stiffly on the four-poster feather bed that was in her guest rooms. She had been laying on it, but when it had lulled her into a quick cat nap, she had quickly sat up and refused to lie on the bed again.  
  
"Come on dear," said the voice she had been arguing with. "A little sleep is good for you."  
  
"Not in the middle of the day," Joad snapped back, then regained her calmness and turned to the little picture up on the slant of the wall to the ceiling. The woman in the picture was frowning at her. She was a pretty, young woman with brown sausage curls hanging around her heart- shaped face. The portrait revealed much of her torso, enough for Joad to see she was wearing some kind of body device to make her waist much smaller than humanly possible and made her breasts gravity defying. It looked uncomfortable. Behind her was a background that was swirled dark blue. If Joad looked hard enough, she could see the circular brushstrokes. Her name was Angela.  
  
"You're not just going to sit there and do nothing, are you?"  
  
Joad didn't reply; she found it hard to believe, after years of working with the computer on her ship, that the pictures had feelings. "Show me where the library is."  
  
Angela was a Carer Portrait. The room her frame was located was the room under her charge. Every exchange student had a Carer Portrait in their room. They were unable to move about the castle while their room was occupied. She was capable of magically cleaning the room, locking the doors, and glares of icy doom. Her current glare was locked on Joad.  
  
"Please," Joad said. She never got anything out of Angela by her monotone commands she was used to giving her computer. Her father hadn't been big on manner lessons; the Fetts were more of the intimidation type.  
  
"You just don't get it, do you dear? I would have a few things to say to your mother if we ever met." She eyed Joad skeptically. "Or did you grow up without a mother."  
  
As a little girl, Joad had never even known what a mother was until her little caper with Janda the Hutt. Though she hadn't remembered most of it until she he done her first hunt and met up with the Jedi twins, Han, and Leia Solo, she had always just realized that mothers did exist and she just didn't have one. Then she had figured out that she was a flawed clone of Boba Fett (she got two X chromosomes instead of an X and a Y) and it was all ok again. (A/N: See 'Mistakes Happen' if you want details. It's a Star Wars story, obviously.)  
  
"I never had a mother."  
  
"Surly you had a mother." Joad was about to object but Angela plowed onward. "But it is not my place to pry in touchy subjects. Let me show you where the library is."  
  
Her smiling self clouded over with dark grey swirls of fog. A 3-D picture of the ground floor of Hogwarts appeared. A blue dot appeared.  
  
"We are here," said Angela's voice. An arrow sprung from the blue dot and turned left down the hall. "Walk past five hallways, then turn right. That's the entrance. The Great Hall, where your dinner will be in an hour, is right there. Be sure to get to dinner on time or you'll hold everyone up. Go past that, up the flight of stair right ahead of you, turn left, and there are the big doors to the library. You can't miss it," finished Angela happily as her face returned.  
  
"Thanks," Joad remembered to say as she left the room. She heard an angry 'tisk'ing from Angela as the portrait swung shut behind her. Making her way down the quiet halls, Joad felt a chill.  
  
She was stuck here, on this primitive planet that built its largest buildings out of stones opposed to man-made products which were _much_ stronger. The silence was strange too; after being on many heavily populated worlds such as Coursant and Nal Hutta, the silence pressed in upon her ears. On Kamino, while growing up, there had always been a hum everywhere she went. While she slept the hum had been there. When she started hunting, one of the worst things to endure when she wasn't concentrating on her hunt, was the lack of hum. The silence of the primitive world and the isolated building was hard to get used to.  
  
"Hey Joad!" The native named Nick saw her as she walked through the entrance wing. Joad didn't really want to talk, but she saw all the natives they called exchange students crowded together. She had no choice but the join them without looking strange.  
  
All of them were cheerful, smiling and trying to talk to each other in broken basic. Apparently, though it was one planet, it was not a unified language like many that Joad knew of. Instead of separated by different dialect, the people on the planet were separated by whole languages; no wonder they hadn't gotten far.  
  
A tall boy with dark skin greeted her.  
  
"Hello," he said kindly, towering over her. "My name is Makalo from Africa. Who are you?" He was wearing long white flowing robes that did not hide his needle-like thinness and long legs.  
  
A girl in back robes with a bright smile and olive complexion stepped forward. "I am Iona, from Greece."  
  
"I am Xiu, from China," said a shy looking girl.  
  
"I'm from America," said the boy Nick who had called her over into this trap earlier.  
  
"I am Victor, from Bulgaria," mumbled a boy lurking in the corner. He had a nose that looked as though it had been broken several times.  
  
They all leaned in toward her a little, eager to hear her name and where she was from.  
  
"Joad Teff, from New Zealand." Joad was careful to keep her voice cool.  
  
"New Zealand," said Makalo thoughtfully. "I think you win the distance contest, though you and Xiu are pretty close. Where are you headed?"  
  
Joad had no idea where New Zealand was, but she knew that was where she was 'from' because Angela had told her so. "Library. Excuse me." She slipped away before they could stop her.  
  
The library was quiet and cool. Joad found that no one, not even the librarian who simply smiled at her, bothered her. It was a nice feeling, finding somewhere finally where she could sit and focus on one thing instead of being distracted by Angela and soft, cushy, warm, comfortable beds. Yes, it was a very good thing.  
  
She had a lot of catching up to do. Being not from the world where you suddenly find yourself going to school without choice will do that to you. Books slowly piled up on her table and she disappeared behind open books, her mouth set in a straight line as she read _Hogwarts, A History, Basic Spells and How to Do Them, The World as We Know It, Muggles and Their Contraptions Volume I_ and _II, The Goblin Wars and Its Players, Chess for Dummies, You-Know-Who and Why He Came to Power, Spells for the Advanced, How to Defend Yourself with Spells (Against the Dark Arts)_, to name a few. She was so focused on studying that she forgot the focus on the time.  
  
"Ah," said a voice above the books. Joad snapped her head up, surprised, to see a very old man in long purple robes, a crocked nose, half-moon spectacles, piercing blue eyes, and a very long, silvery beard. She could only assume that it was Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts. "I see we have a scholar." He smiled kindly and there was a twinkle in his eye that made Joad feel as though he knew exactly where she was really from.  
  
"We didn't have a library like this in my school," Joad explained lamely.  
  
"I hope that you use this library to its full extent. If you read all the books, you would be the first to since Uric the Oddball. I wish you luck, but you should probably wait until _after_ dinner, I think." He smiled. "Come." He helped Joad from her seat and walked with her through the halls.  
  
"Dinner is exquisite here, if you don't mind me saying so," Dumbledore said happily. "I've never eaten somewhere where the food is not better, though a little muggle café once came close. Then again, I have not been to many places in the world, so I cannot fairly judge..."  
  
He rambled on like that until they entered a large room with floating candles. Joad glanced at the ceiling she had read about and was rewarded with the fading colors of the sunset. There was one table in the huge room instead of the usual five. Around it, all the present teachers and exchange students were talking happily. They grew silent as they approached. Dumbledore sat her down in a chair between him and a greasy, foul looking teacher.  
  
"Now that we're all here, we will start dinner. Help yourselves." He sat down and food appeared on all the plates and jugs of pumpkin juice floated around them filling up their goblets. The scowling teacher filled his plate with a variety of...lettuce, carrots. tomatoes, celery, and radishes. Dumbledore, on the other hand, helped himself to a everything that come within reach until his plate was piled high with food, more food than Joad had thought him able to eat.  
  
Carefully selecting from the array of foreign food, Joad wondered if there was something in the food that might kill her. If only she had her helmet she could detect any unfamiliar substances in the food, but she doubted even people from New Zealand dressed like that.  
  
"Are you enjoying your stay?" asked a voice to her left.  
  
Joad finished dishing herself a spoonful of mashed potatoes before answering. "It's different." She turned to look at the teacher who seemed to host a permanent scowl.  
  
"I imagine." He looked over Joad's head and frown at someone. Joad assumed that that someone was Dumbledore. "I'm Severus Snape, Head of the Slytherin House, Potions Master."  
  
And Leader of the Anti-Wash Your Hair Group, Joad finished mentally. "Joad Teff," Joad replied, deciding to continue with the introduction theme.  
  
"I noticed," he said dryly, frowned over her head again. "A pleasure. I hope you enjoy your stay at Hogwarts."  
  
"I hope so as well," returned Joad in her usual monotone then returned to her food. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watch her before returning to his rabbit food.  
  
The food was indeed good, better than anything she had ever had. On Kamino, she had virtually grown up on burnt food. Let's just say that Boba Fett may be the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy, but he cannot cook worth beans. As tempted as she was, Joad refrained from stuffing herself, something that some of the other students were not wary enough of.  
  
"Uh, I can barley move," said Nick, patting his stomach. "If I may say so, the food here is _delicious_!" All of the students agreed.  
  
"You may say so, Nick," replied Dumbledore grandly. He stood up and smiled all around the table, his deep voice kind and fatherly. "A wonderful first dinner to start off your Hogwarts stay, to be sure. A started feast, I think, for your start of the year feast when you will be sorted into your temporary houses and met your fellow students. I would like to thank the teachers who are here for coming to the school early or, in some cases, coming out from the summerly lurks in the school to greet all of you. I think we are all tired enough to sleep late tomorrow morning and spend a relaxing week until the term starts. Sleep tight."  
  
Everyone filed out of the great hall and to their respective rooms. Nick and Xiu each forgot where they were staying and had to be showed by some tired teachers. Joad, however, did not forget, though she suspected that her room was the farthest from the hall.  
  
So Joad returned to where she had been two hours ago, faced with the danger of a too comfy bed, a chatty painting, and a deep sense of foreboding. Glancing at the bed, Joad sat down in front of the fireplace in an armchair, sinking into it. She toned out Angela's scolding that she should sleep in the bed like proper people and fell into an uneasy slumber.


	3. Sorted

**Thanks to all readers and expecially to reviewers!**  
  
**Chapter 3  
  
Sorted**  
  
Life revolved around the library.  
  
Every morning, Joad slipped from her room under the watchful eyes of Angela and went for a morning run around the grounds to the light of the rising sun. Every now and then, she spotted the old man Dumbledore standing out on the lawn, looking over the lake as the sun rose. He was troubled, and with good reason, but he was letting his troubled state show to all that cared to look. Emotions were weakness.  
  
After her morning exercise it was breakfast, something Joad went to early and left the same way. She came to not enjoy the times when she was unable to slip away unnoticed and forced to sit out the entire thing, with Dumbledore talking to her as if trying to pry out her secrets. Sometimes, when he looked at her with the twinkle in his eyes the way he did, Joad got the horrible feeling that the old man already knew where she was from, what she was, both clone and bounty hunter.  
  
After breakfast, she went to the library. Usually she would stay in the library until dinner; lunch was something she had not had the luxury of on Kamino, and the mere morning runs were not enough to keep her physically fit. She made up for the missed lunch by eating a large breakfast.  
  
Then after dinner it was out to the grounds again. The second night of her stay, she had snuck out to the forest, stalking among the trees in her robes, trying to get closer to some of the unseen forest life. She had read of the forest in the book and knew of what horrors it held, so without armor and weaponry she didn't go far. The next night she donned her armor, ignored Angela's protests and scaled the wall three stories to the ground from her window. It would have been easier to just walk out, but someone might see her, and explaining her armor would be difficult. Besides, scaling wasn't so hard, and the stones were easy to grip. Stalking in the forest was fun as well. Each night, she went deeper and deeper into the foreboding blackness of the unforgiving trees and saw many things she had never seen the likes of in her space travels. More than once she had to fly to safety above the tree tops to avoid dying in a gristly manner in the hands of centaurs or paws of unintelligent beings. She tried her jetpack once on the grounds of Hogwarts and nothing happened and she ventured to try her blasters there too. Apparently nothing of her weaponry worked on the grounds, which was just a little unnerving.  
  
The night's escapade always ended with a scolding from Angela. Joad remembered the first time she scaled to wall to the window, hoping Angela would be asleep; she should have known better.  
  
"Three stories to the ground!" Angela had screamed at her the moment her head popped over the window seal. She continued to yell are Joad climbed into the room. "Me not knowing if you had fallen to your death! Where have you been, Joad Teff? The nerve of you slipping away like that without even a word to me! You young- young- you- arg!"  
  
Joad slipped off her helmet and smiled wryly up at the flustered picture. "I see words fail you."  
  
"You young ruffian! You should be happy I didn't report you to Dumbledore!" Joad's smile dropped from her face like a body sinking in a river with stones on its feet. "It's unnerving enough that you wake up so darned early, but now you jump out of windows with your whole getup. Don't look at me with that nasty helmet on, Joad Teff. And don't even try to tell me that that's New Zealand uniform."  
  
"Don't worry, I wasn't." Joad looked at the room. All the chairs were gone and the window seat that Joad had slept on the past few nights had vanished as well, the window now flat against the wall.  
  
"That's right," said Angela triumphantly, "you must now sleep on the bed. I have more power than simply talking you know. Tomorrow night, I'm locking the window. You'll behave like a proper young lady."  
  
Joad had not the slightest idea how a 'proper young lady' should act, but she knew what to do. She fixed Angela with her most icy stare, than moved her head to looked pointedly at the blazing fireplace.  
  
"You. Would. Not. Dare." Hissed Angela fiercely, separating each word.  
  
"Care to make a wager on that?" Joad carefully made her voice monotone.  
  
The room suddenly darkened as the fire spiraled slowly away, as if a tiny black hole was sucking it out from the middle of the hearth. The burned brightly for a second as a tiny pinpoint of light floating in the air, then with a low 'poof' it was gone.  
  
"Yes," Angela replied icily. "Now, go to bed like a good girl."  
  
Joad didn't take off her armor and sat down on the rug in front of the still warm fireplace, setting her helmet aside to stare up at Angela. As she prepared to lie down and sleep, the bed legs scrapped across the floor toward her.  
  
Joad leapt to her feet only in time to dodge a blanket snapping out towards her foot. Pillows bombarded her head, keeping her from seeing. She felt a sheet wind around her leg and tug; falling to one knee, Joad grabbed the pillows while twisting around to loose herself from the vice-like grip of the bedspread. A blanket flew toward her, perhaps to wind around her arm and pull her to impending doom, er, bed, but she blocked it with the pillows. She jumped into the air, twisting her torso and leg, and then laded with the free foot on the withering sheet. Her leg was a little less captive of the sheet, so she repeated, blocking various attacks from the bedspread with the pillows turned shields.  
  
Free from the sheet finally, the bed seemed to launch at full out attack. Even the draperies reached out and caught whatever they could. A blanket wrapped around her torso, sheets wound up her legs and tugged. Joad fell to the floor hard, twisted over on her stomach, grasping for anything she could get a hold of. She had to settle for scraping at the floor as she was dragged toward sleeping like a 'proper young lady.'  
  
"Nooooooo!" Joad found herself wailing as she neared the bed, clawing at the floor for a nonexistent hold.  
  
The drapes wound around her arms up to her armpits and pulled her to her feet, then up into the air. The blankets and sheets that had attached themselves to her unwound instantly and started rearranging on the bed. Meanwhile the drapes flipped Joad up into the air, and she ripped through the top of the bed, falling fully armored minus the helmet on to perfectly smooth sheets and strategically placed pillows. The moment she landed to a cloud of feathers (one of the pillows got ripped in the fight), the blankets raced up her body to her chin, then tucked themselves in tightly under the mattress, rendering Joad helpless and unable to move.  
  
_I got in a fight with my bed and lost_, Joad thought blankly to herself as the bed scrapped across the floor so Joad found herself looking up at a sweetly smiling Angela.  
  
"There, isn't that better?"

Since then, Angela and Joad had gotten along infinitely better; they each reached a level of grudging respect. Each knew what the other could do and, later, Angela admitted she hadn't been sure she could force Joad into the bed once she saw what Joad was capable of. Joad still went out in the night, but with an arranged time to return back. She slept on the window seat again, but it was larger this time, with more pillows and a blanket. She still went out in the morning, but not as early. And she took many of the books to her room for studying.  
  
Once she got over being forced into bed, Joad found Angela interesting to talk to and soon found herself telling much of what happened to her.  
  
"So you're from the sky? You _fly around_ in the stars? They're so small...can you hold them in you're hand?"  
  
So it had taken awhile, but Joad finally got a little of her life into the mind of Angela.  
  
Previous life, she reminded herself. She was unsure if she would ever get back to her galaxy, her father, her profession. She had left the bounty hunter part out of the story, as well as the clone bit. She imagined that those would be a little too hard to Angela to swallow, especially all in one day.

* * *

Finally September 1st arrived. Like any other day, Joad went running in the morning, but was unable to slip out at breakfast. All of the teachers had been arriving the past few days, and the one table was full. Most were talking with each other, politely interested in the other's summer. An older woman with a tight bun and a wide-brim pointed hat was having a quiet, urgent conversation with Dumbledore and Snape. She saw Hagrid, the one who found her at the edge of the grounds, talking with an alarmingly short man whose squeaky high pitched voice could be heard from the other side of the table, though no words could be distinguished.  
  
Around her the exchange students chatted amongst themselves; Xiu from China and Iona from Greece were trying to teach each other their languages, to much giggling and snickering. Joad imagined that what they were teaching each other was not so innocent. Nick and Makalo were talking like old buddies, discussing Quidditch and the latest racing brooms. Victor sulked on the outskirts of their conversation, occasionally pointing something out and coming up with a name of a player they had forgotten.  
  
Joad had finished her breakfast, ate quickly and completely, and was now observing teachers more closely. She deduced that they all were teachers of previous years except one. She sat at the end of the table, posture erect and perfect, wearing what appeared to be a dress instead of the robes the others were wearing. She had hair so blonde it looked silver, with a thin neck and delicate fingers. She picked at her egg, talking to no one, her eyes downcast so Joad couldn't see their color. Snape keep shooting her looks of loathing.  
  
On the outside, she appeared a delicate outsider, unsure of herself in this world of more experience teachers that she hardly knew, but when Joad looked at her, her gut tightened. It wasn't so much a warning of impending doom, as her gut so kindly warned her of when it approached, but more of a cautious warning. And, as her father always told her to, she trusted her gut. Only once had she not trusted her gut, and that had not turned out so well. That had been when she got that book.  
  
After ages, breakfast ended, and Joad slipped away. After that, the day went by quickly. She spent it in her room, studying and asking Angela questions.  
  
"This is the last time you'll be under my care," Angela said abruptly, her voice sad.  
  
"What?" Joad looked up from her studying. She didn't mind loosing Angela, but loosing Angela meant loosing this room, moving to a different room.  
  
"You'll be sorted tonight, of course. To your temporary house until you return to New Zealand, that's where you will sleep, study, do homework, and hang out with your new friends.  
  
Joad said nothing and went back to her books.  
  
"You're a cold girl, you know that?" She sounded angry.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Nothing good comes from being detached." She was huffy now.  
  
"What would you know? I've already told you my secrets."  
  
"I don't believe them. You think I would be stupid enough to believe you were from the stars? I'm not gullible."  
  
Joad looked up at Angela, her mind calculating. "You're right. How could I think that. I am Joad Teff from New Zealand, not from the stars." _I am Joad Fett, daughter of Boba Fett, most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy. I will carry on his legacy...once I get off this rock_.  
  
"Lying is a bad thing. You must get out of the habit."  
  
"I agree, lying is wrong." _We agree on one thing_.  
  
"There's a good girl. You're just nervous about tonight."  
  
_A Fett is never nervous_. Joad returned to her book.  
  
Loosing Angela would not at all be a bad thing.

* * *

"Blimey!" Ron crashed down into his seat at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. "I'm starving! I could eat a whole dragon."  
  
"I imagine so," snapped Hermione, sitting down across from him. "All you ate on the train was chocolate frogs. Honestly Ron, how unhealthy."  
  
Ron looked like he was going to argue but didn't. "Anyway, I hope the sorting is fast."  
  
"You always hope that."  
  
"Well, I do!"  
  
Harry joined his friends, sitting next to Ron, but did not comment on their bickering. Instead he scanned the teacher table. He eyes fell upon the you lady, knowing she must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She looked wispy, frail, unlikely that she would last even half the year, and a relation of the Malfoys.  
  
"Whoa," said Neville, who sat down next to them. "Is she Malfoy's mom?"  
  
Hermione turned and looked at the teachers' table.  
  
"No, maybe a relative."  
  
"Oh no, I hope not."  
  
Harry remained silent. He looked down at his plate, unable to look at Snape or McGonagall, or even Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry," Hermione whispered sympathetically. He thought she was going to say more but was glad when she didn't.  
  
Sirius was dead. There was nothing anyone could do about it. And it was all his fault. All his and no one else's. His alone.  
  
The sorting began, a much large group than last years. Hermione wondered out loud if it had anything to do with the public announcement of Voldemort's return. Harry didn't move throughout all the applause and cheering. Glancing across the hall, Harry felt a savage glee that Malfoy was not cheering either. He was sitting a little ways away from his peers, glowering darkly at his plate. _Serves the slimy bastard right,_ he thought. His father deserved Askaban if anyone did. Hopefully he was getting the kiss right now.  
  
After the serving, Dumbledore rose for his announcement of dinner, probably a few short words. Ron held his fork and knife at the ready, starring forcefully at the table, as if he could already see the food there or bring it before him by will alone while Hermione sighed, at a loss.  
  
"I hope the hungry stomachs can wait just a few more minutes. We have yet one more surprise for you." Professor McGonagall had not yet moved from her position in front of the Headmaster, still holding the sorting hat and pulling another roll of parchment from a pocket.  
  
At the Gryffindor table, Ron groaned and flopped forward onto his plate.

* * *

Through the door behind the staff table, the exchange students could hear Dumbledore's speech, though it sounded only like mumbles to them. There was no sign of the laughter and easy talk from breakfast; everyone appeared a little nervous. Everyone except Joad. She stood impassively in to corner, face in shadow, reviewing all the escape routes in the great hall. If something happened, she wanted to be prepared; she had seen people get trampled to death in stampedes of panicked people and she doubted that the people in the hall consisted of students didn't matter much in terms of stampede.  
  
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the room, magically amplified:  
  
"Xiu Chang, from China."  
  
Xiu was pale as she walked stiffly to the door, through which, when open, they could hear the curious murmurings of the students. Joad wondered how many of them had seen an oriental person.  
  
A few moments of tense waiting then:  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" A roar of applause and cheering.  
  
Similarly went Makalo of Africa to Ravenclaw and Iona of Greece to Hufflepuff. Nick Sythe of America went to Gryffindor and the cheering seemed louder than any before.  
  
"Teff, Joad, from New Zealand," rang McGonagall's voice.  
  
Joad opened the door and strode across the floor to the hat. She made her face blank and hard, her eyes sweeping the students as the whispered to their neighbors. Her muscles were tense and she moved as if she was stalking her prey. She made sure she appeared calm and unafraid.  
  
_Fool_, she silently chastised herself. _You didn't have to stay here. You could have left and avoided this mess. And why is your stomach squirmy? Are you scared? No. Preposturous. Scared of a crowd of students poorly trained for combat? Get a hold of yourself Joad!_  
  
She put the hat on her head and was unsurprised when it spoke to her.  
  
"Well, you are the odd one, aren't you? It's not many who come to me and can block me so well from their mind."  
  
Joad didn't reply.  
  
"Well, to sort you properly, I have to see what you've got in there."  
  
She grimaced, but her wall wavered and the hat entered her mind.  
  
"Ahhh..." he said, as if something once in the dark had just come to light and he finally understood. "You are a...a copy? You _are_ odd."  
  
_Sort me, don't look at my past.  
_  
"You are afraid of hardly anything, I see. You are confident of yourself. You are smart and cunning. If there is one house you don't fit into it is Hufflepuff."  
  
_I knew _that _already._  
  
"But what is this I see? _Determination_. A stop at nothing attitude toward your goal. And a brutal past."  
  
_I was happy._  
  
"Happy bathed in blood? Well," he sighed, as if sad. "I guess that makes you..."  
  
"SLYTHERIN!" 


	4. Only the Beginning

**Thanks to readers and reviewers!**

**Chapter 4**

**Only the beginning**

With a great feeling on relief, Joad reminded herself that she was only an exchange student here at Hogwarts, and that only until her father came to rescue her, which Joad had no doubt he would do. She had sat at the Slytherin table, successfully without cracking her composure, at the first spot offered to her. Unfortunately, she was now having second thoughts about her chosen seat.

"So, New Zealand..." drawled the boy next to her. Joad looked at him, supposing she was to answer, but, with a twist and gagging feeling, she discovered she had no idea how. Immediately she wanted her armor; her back was exposed to the hall, strangers sat all around her, she was weaponless except for the vibroblade up her sleeve, and just wouldn't be enough. Maybe this was all a joke, hologram, and someone real and dangerous was lurking _behind _her, taking aim at her back with a very powerful gun. _Her back was exposed!_

Impulsively she twisted around, intending to scan the crowd, but instead found someone starring right at her. His black hair was a mess, and his vivid green eyes widened a little as they met her own brown. He seemed to have a small seizure, jerking backward, hand flying up to his forehead.

_Him, _she thought. _He is the one who brought me here. _She would "talk" with him later, in proper bounty hunter fashion. When he was alone. She turned back around.

"So?" Her eyebrows rose. What was this guy trying to say?

"How is it?" He appeared disgruntled, a corner of his mouth twitched as if he was about to sneer at the fact that he had to further explain himself.

"Oh, not all that different." Judging, of course, by the almanac she had studied in the library before school had started. She made eye contact with him, his pale grey eyes sharp and calculating. He found hers cold and dangerous.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, tossing a lock of almost-white hair from his long face and giving her his best charming smile.

"Joad Teff," she replied, trying her best to smile back, but only coming up with the tight-lipped smile that can often be confused with a stomach-ache grimace. She watched as he, with careless grace, introduced the people in the vicinity. He was obviously the ring leader of the house, the top-dog, the most dangerous and crafty of the whole lot.

Everyone had been sorted now, all the exchange students, and Joad noticed that she was the only one in Slytherin, a real pity because now she couldn't fade out of the limelight. Dumbledore stood up to address the student body one last time before dinner.

"You all must be hungry, but let me say a few last words. As a great Aunt of mine, Bibbity Bobity Boo, often said: winkle, turk, and tuck." With that, food appeared on the table and students began feasting.

"He's an old bat, and shouldn't be able to run the school," snapped Draco as he dished himself some mashed potatoes and pork and passed the bowl to her.

Cautiously scooping some food onto her plate, she shrugged. "He seemed okay to me." She wasn't sure if she was acting properly, never having eaten dinner with anyone besides her father before, but he didn't seem to notice her nervousness. She was rather proud that her hands were not shaking because he heart was beating something fierce. Social skills were not things she learned on Kamino.

"How long have you been here?" He eyed her out of the corner of his eye to find eye was doing the same to him.

"Two weeks today." That was when someone from across the table leaned over to engage her in conversation and she was saved from more questions from Draco Malfoy.

Needless to say, throughout dinner Joad watched her food like a hawk. Being surrounded by the next generations Death Eaters was not a very strategic position. When Pansy Parkenson made a long reach for the pumpkin juice instead of asking for it like any normal person, she obscured Joad's entire plate from view. After that, Joad pronounced herself done.

She watched the black-haired boy in the refection of her goblet. Every now and then he seemed to look at her, but in the skewed and blurry image on the cup she couldn't be sure without turning around (something she didn't do) and she couldn't make out his expression.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table...

"Ron! Close your mouth! Your food is returning to the plate and it's not in the form it originally was! Sorry Nick, he's not usually like this."

Ron shut his mouth with a snap and glared at Hermione, who took no notice.

"You haven't even looked at her," said Ron indignantly, referring to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"I have, and she looks like she won't last half the year."

Harry tore his eyes off the back of the Slytherin girl from New Zealand to his friends. He was sitting next to Ron, Hermione and Nick were on the other side of the table, and Neville was on Ron's other side. "Who?"

"The DADA babe," supplied Nick helpfully.

Hermione snorted. "For goodness sakes! She's a teacher! And a while ago you were complaining about how hungry you were, and now you won't even eat!"

"Yea, but the most gorgeous teacher I've ever seen. Good thing we're taking Defense this year, eh, Harry?" He bent down closer to his plate and shoveled some food in. The only other person Harry had seen that ate like that was Dudley, and Ron was very, _very_ opposite Dudley in build.

"You two are trying to be Aurors aren't you?" asked Neville.

"Yeah," said Harry, forcefully turning Ron's head to face Neville. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to be an Herb Medicare Wizard. At least I'm hoping to be. That way I don't have to take potions. A normal Medicare Wizard had to excel in potions, but the kind that only deals with Herbs, a special and difficult profession, doesn't! Isn't that great? Gran is really proud. Professor Sprout is having me for special lesson, private tutoring you know. What about you Hermione?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Hermione, rather too quickly to be casual, right before her face was hidden was she took a gulp of her pumpkin juice. Harry thought he was the only one who saw her blush faintly, but it could have been the light.

Ron cocked his eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged. "Okay, so what about you Nick?"

"Divination, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy. Is your Divination teacher good? I heard you had a centaur!"

"Luck you. You missed the old bat," grumbled Ron. "It's a stupid subject anyway."

"Divination isn't for everyone," Nick intoned, sounding very wise. "It's just something that has run in my family's blood for ages, ever since they sailed from Wales to America, and before that. My grandma, who was a very strong Seer, said that my father's first born son would have that power."

"You, I assume," Hermione was done taking a drink now that the questions were not directed at her.

"Yeah." He looked proud. Ron snorted and Nick shot him a scowl.

"_Ron_, honestly."

Harry's eyes drifted back toward the Slytherin exchange student. He didn't remember her name, but he knew she was bad news. She was the agent of Voldemort sent to the school. But he couldn't tell Ron and Hermione yet, not with Nick and Neville so close. Later he would tell them, and they would confront her.

* * *

Dinner was over and people where making their way out of the Great Hall among cries of "First years! This way! Don't get lost!" Nott pulled Draco aside as they watch Pansy lead an impassionate Joad from the Hall, telling her about the Slytherin common room.

"She's stiff," Nott whistled. "Ten galleons you can't soften her up a bit before Easter."

"Deal," smirked Draco. "But I'll have her hanging on my arm by Christmas, and you'll give me twenty."

* * *

**When will Harry, Ron, and Hermione confront Joad? How badly will the Fett kick their butts? find out next time...**


	5. Day One

Chapter 5

For the first time in her life, Joad was miserable. It was a brand new emotion, plunging her into a realm of darkness. Everything took on a grey hue, darker and more solemn, but that could have just been the room she was in. The thick drapes on the bed she such a dark green they almost looked black. The bed posts, some kind of black wood, were regal looking snakes, each different from the next. In the head-board of the bed, SLYTHERIN was carved beautifully into the wood in an archaic style, but Joad paid no attention. Upon entering the surprisingly cheery common room, Joad excused herself and had gone up to the spiral staircase to the girls' dorm, got in bed, and closed the curtains around her. She lay in almost blackness, feeling comforted by the enclosed space so like a cockpit. It was then she realized she was homesick.

Being surrounded by people her own age sickened her, and she was glad she had not done it before. The dinning hall had stunk with bodies; not so much any of them would have noticed, but she had. She distrusted everyone and didn't even have a motherly picture to scold her anymore. It seemed pointless and illogical for her to have these emotions. One day her father would die and she would be all alone in the galaxy with no friends, ever. But when had emotions ever been rational? That what emotions were after all, irrational silly things that mostly bordered on insanity. Her father had told her that emotions were impossible to stop; the trick was to suppress them and dull their effects. Joad tried to meditate and banish white thoughts of Kamino from her mind, but eventually had to snake her hand from her bed and fumble in her chest until she pulled out her helmet. Tomorrow night, she promised herself as she slowly drifted to sleep with one hand gripping a vibroblade and the other wrapped around her helmet, she would not succumb to such foolish emotions.

* * *

A blind man would have more success in navigating a room full of mute people by verbal assistance only than Joad had in her lessons. She decided at the end of the day that her coming here was either a cruel joke or a fateful (and painful) coincidence; she was not magical at all. So used to excelling, Joad was miserable and humiliated when she could not get her wand to work. When ever she tried to use it for an enchantment, all she would receive was a shower of red sparks. She blamed it on the culture shock. 

The day had not stared well at all.

She had gotten up early as usual, but was unable to go on her usual caper in the forest (neither the night before nor that morning to make up for it), since she could not very well go sneaking around the school in her armor now that there were so many students about, not to mention Filch on the prowl. She felt empty and weak in the limbs when she got out of bed. She was about to leave the dorm for a sunrise jog, then had remembered who exactly she was rooming with. Quickly and as quietly as possible she pulled out of her chest all of her armor and, in sections, hid it jammed between the bottom of her mattress and the boards holding the bed together. She would have to find a better place to hide it later.

By the time she had snuck downstairs, she became aware that she was not the only one who wanted to wake early. She heard rustling around the fireplace and a faint poof and the fire sprang anew. Surprised and curious that she could not see anyone where someone surely was, Joad crept towards the back of the deep green couch. Peering over the edge, she expected there to be a student sitting before the fire. Instead she found a pair of deep blue eyes the size of small hand grenades staring back at her. Startled, she fell back with a muffled cry, catching herself on her hands so she felt like a living bridge. The pair of eyes, or its owner if there was one, squeaked loudly and there was a soft thump as they fell off the couch. Joad was up almost instantly and stood up to get a good look at the mysterious thing.

It was small, barely coming up to her waist, if even that, and dressed in a white pillowcase with a fancy embroidered "H" on the right shoulder. It had black smudges where the knees were that must have been from cleaning out the fire place. The face had a fine cover of black powder on it, as did its arms up past the elbow. Somehow, Joad suspected magic, the dust didn't get on the carpet.

"Oh!" squeaked it, jumping to its feet and reaching up and tugging on its long ears. "Illa so sorry mistress! Illa did not expect anyone to be up yet so Illa came to tend the fireplace and was scared when she heard someone coming down the stairs! Is little miss hurt at all?" Her flat nose quivered with terrified eagerness as the already large eyes grew in size and looked intently at Joad's nose.

"Uh…" Joad took a step back, unsure of what to do with this little creature and its fast talk in one breath.

"If you are miss, it will be Illa's duty to punish herself, though Dumbledore says Illa doesn't have to."

"I'm fine," managed Joad.

"Are you sure?" And suddenly Illa was on the back of the couch examining Joad's hand and arm, pulling her closer with surprising force. "Your palms are red miss," she continued rapidly in a very urgent manner, "indicating trauma. Little miss is pale too." She pulled Joad's head to her and used her thumb to examine Joad's eye. "Dilated pupil," she squeaked in near panic, "but cold forehead. Heart rate of-" Joad finally got a hold of her wits and her 'attacker' enough to grab her by the arm and pull her off the couch and hold Illa away from her.

There was a shocked silence for a moment, then Illa burst into tears, intermixed with painfully high sobs.

"Illa is sorry to offend you," she wailed. "Illa does not want to loose her job or get Slytherins angry at her."

Joad felt her face twisting in a strange degree of horror. What was she to do _now_? A bizarre creature wailing at a near-inaudible decibel was bound to wake someone she didn't want to talk to. Hurriedly she put it on the couch and grabbed some tissues from the table and held them out to it.

"You didn't offend me," Joad offered, looking around.

"Oh but Illa did!" wailed it (who Joad supposed was the Illa she was always talking about.).

"No- shhhh!" Joad did not like this comforting thing. What was she supposed to say? Illa blew her nose on a tissue and pulled out a few more to wipe away the tears and extra snot.

"Illa didn't?" She peered up at Joad with her large peculiar eyes, tears threatening to spill out of them again. "Truthfully?"

Something stirred in Joad then, a strange feeling she had never experienced before. The picture of Illa, her feet barely reaching the edge of the couch, holding a crumpled tissue in her small hands, her large eyes looking into Joad's own and relying on her answer. Joad was not sure about this new emotion, but she had an idea what it was.

"Truthfully," she said and felt, at the corners of her mouth, the twitchings of the first real smile since she had left her father.

* * *

So Joad gained a little friend, but lost her morning run. So it hadn't been a terrible morning, but after the sun rose, it went downhill as fast as a kratdragon after a tusken raider that had just made a pathetic jab at its nose. And it all started with a murderous sentence: 

"Oh look," Draco said in a pleasantly surprised voice, "we have the same schedules."

Joad could not deny it, and was forced was walk in the group of Slytherins as they made their way to Transfiguration, their first class. They were all talking and laughing, snickering at the fouler jokes and screaming with laughter at the, ahem,'funnier.' But there were times as they walked that it all seemed so fake to Joad, like everyone had been assigned a part to play, and they were already beginning to grow weary of it.

"We haveTransfig with the Gryffindors," said Draco at her side. He was about a head taller than her, slender and sharp. There was the feeling of conspiracy about him, as if right then he was plotting something behind your back. Joad had little doubt that he would not hesitate, would, anddid,go about scheming with glee. "They're a snobby lot," he sniffed, "so full of themselves it's a wonder that they manage to still get through doors. Harry Potter's among them. He's not as wonderful as the books make him out to be. Try to be nice to a guy and he hates you forever." He looked sour for a moment. "But we'll show him," he whispered quietly.

The two houses waited for Professor McGonagall separated by a crevasse of unbreakable taboo, crossed only by quick glares. She came quickly and hustled them all into her fascinating classroom where each house occupied a side of the room. Draco sat down next to Joad, across the isle from Harry Potter and a red head.

Professor McGonagall made her beginning of the year speech and began class with few "review" spells, none of which Joad was able to perform.

"Never mind Miss Teff, it must surely be the shock of meeting so many new people in a short period of time. You become used to them in a few days."

"Try one more time Joad," said kindly Professor Flitwick in Charms. "You'll get it next time, never worry."

"Go to the library to review," ordered Professor Nite in Defense Against the Dark Arts, then added kindly: "it's the culture shock. You'll be back to normal in a few days."

By the time they trudged to potions after a hurried lunch she was disheartened and felt like disappearing into the floor, never to reemerge.

The Gryffindors, whom they rejoining for potions,had preceded them out of the grand Hall and their voices echoed back along the corridor. When the Slytherins arrived at the Potions room was closed and locked so they all stood around it, separated by that gap pf inviolable space. Their voices turned to whispers as if they were afraid to let the other kind hear their jokes.

Behind the Slytherins, back towards the Grand Hall there was a ringing of footsteps as a Gryffindor boy rushed around the corner. His flushed face filled with uncertainty as he stopped and looked desperately past the wall of Slytherins at his friends. Draco saw and leaned over and whispered something maliciously to Nott. Then, stepping back from each other they parted the Slytherins with great sweeps of their arms.

"Make way!" they shouted, "Make way!"

"Make way for King Klutz of the Gryffindors," heralded Draco, performing a mock bow to the shocked and nervous Neville.

The Gryffindors were deathly silent, some of them had looks of anger on their faces.

"Come, your majesty," said Draco in a honeyed voice dripping with poison. "Your subjects await you." He gestured down the hallway of Slytherins to the waiting Gryffindors. All the Slytherins had grins on their faces, except Joad, who stood to the side wondering why Draco would do such a thing; if the Gryffindors were stuck up, then the Slytherins must be overflowing in priggery.

When Neville didn't move (poor boy was trembling and visibly uncertain), Draco looked back at the Gryffindors as if to say "What brave people you have," one eyebrow cocked and a confused mouth. The Slytherins snickered gleefully.

"Why, Your Longbottomness," Draco purred as he approached Neville, "we've made a path for you." Neville tried to back away but Draco caught him before he could. "Traverse it," he ordered.

The expressions on the Gryffindors' faces were of pure rage.

Draco pulled Neville forward, but at the same time stepped on his ropes, so the Gryffindor tripped and stumbled a little. A Slytherin jumped from his place in line at Neville's face, causing Neville to squeak and stumble back. Draco caught him and pushed him forward, once again stepping on his hems. Pansy jumped with a harpy's scream at him; the victim shied away from her, only to face another onslaught from his other side. He visibly shook now and the color had drained from his face.

"Stop!" screamed a Gryffindor girl, rushing forward.

"Malfoy," snarled Harry Potter, following the girl a few steps before squaring his shoulders heroically, "touch him again and I'll…" he let it hang menacingly but his intent was clear: he held his wand in his hand and didn't look afraid to use it.

"We're not touching him," smirked Draco, and he did stand a few feet away from, faking innocence.

"Come on Neville," said the bush haired girl, walking wearily toward the Slytherins. The red-head stuck close behind her, and Harry moved forward as well. Behind them the Gryffindors had formed a wall and took several steps after the three, as if an army waiting for their leading officers to lead them into battle.

"Let him be Granger," snapped Malfoy.

"Free-will is not suppressed in this school Malfoy, or we'd have you all in stocks by now," shot back Hermione. Neville hurried towards her, his way being interrupted only when Nott jumped at him with a soft and menacing 'boo!' All the Slytherins laughed when Neville made it to the other side to the Gryffindors, as if they had all just completed a marvelous joke.

"You're all so terribly witty," snarled Hermione. "It really makes you all look so powerful and masterful picking on a single person.

"Don't you wish you could organize something like that on the spot," boasted Draco to her. "That takes talent, Granger, that doesn't come from books. You'll never understand."

"I understand harassment when I see it."

"Tosh!" Draco waved it aside loudly, as if a minor matter, "poking fun."

"Poking fun is between friends, not enemies."

"So you admit it," whispered Draco, his eyes shinning.

Hermione straitened and held his eyes, but failed to say anything. Joad didn't fully understand this exchange, but she understood what the predicament Granger was in. If she said 'yes' she would official start the war of the houses; if 'no,' then she would deny what she said and loose the ground she had gained in the argument.

The silence stretched on between the two verbal gladiators, seemingly unbroken for ages and that they had turned to stone simply staring at each other, like two jealous Medusas.

"What did you gain from that Malfoy?" asked Harry icily after a time.

"I hope that we can do some things without gain," he answered breaking his eye contact with Hermione to look at Harry.

"Like fill you with curses," snapped the red-head.

"Watch it Weasly, or you might end up with a cauldron of slugs." The hall rang with the Slytherins laughter ad Weasly grew red behind the ears.

"Ron," warned Hermione, trying to hold him back.

"At least we all have talent," Ron snapped at Draco, "which is more than you can say for all your cronies." And he did a peculiar thing, Joad thought. He nodded his chin out towards her, where she lurked and watched on the sidelines. Joad never really figured out why he did this, when there were plenty of other stupid people to pick on. She straightened, anger flickered across her eyes.

Draco turned slightly to see who he was talking about. He frowned and turned back towards the Gryffindors.

"Don't be stupid Weasley," he laughed, but it sounded forced. "She could take you on and win any day."

Joad never figured out what the red-head was going to say to that, because Professor Snape choose that moment to sweep into the hall and past them into the room. As Joad went into the cold dungeon cell she could feel the red-head's hot glare on her back.

* * *

Sorry it took me so long :( but i hope you all like it! I like a lot better than my other version. i'll try to write more on Mistakes Happen, but i have a concert this weekend and an essay and o bunch of other things i should be doing.

Oh well


	6. What Happens in Libraries

For best effect, listen to dramatic instrumental music while you read. (Van Helsing, Pirates, and Lord of the Rings work nicely)

Chapter 6

What Happens in Libraries

There should be a library on Kamino, Joad thought idly as she wandered through the towering shelves. There was a peculiar smell that lingered, the smell of old paper, and the tiny dust motes danced in the golden sunlight and swirled madly in Joad's wake.

Library on Kamino! What insanity was this? On Kamino, she would not waste _time_ reading _books_; she would be training. She would be perfecting herself and her skills, certainly not reading.

But she could enjoy this one while it lasted. Joad couldn't resist running a finger along the aged bindings and stopped, at random, on a little black one. It looked familiar somehow, which was odd because she was sure she had not pulled it off the shelf before. Hooking her finger in the neck, she slid it off into her hand. There was no title. The cat-killer got the better of Joad and she opened the nameless book.

"_I hate to be rude, but you are a fool."_

Joad nearly dropped the book in her surprise at the only words written on the page before she realized what it was.

"Oh, it's just you," she muttered. It was the book she first found in the forest in her trunk, the one that talked to her.

"_Don't 'it's jut you' me! AND DON'T CLOSE ME!" _it "shouted" when Joad made to close it. _"I can't help you if you don't work with me."_

"You're here to help me?"

"_Yes. Do you think that we expected you to come here and just expect to _know_ magic?"_

"Wait, _you_ brought me here?"

"_WE did. It was a collective effort between us."_

"You mean there are more little black books that stalk people and appear on shelves."

"_Currently, a book is the most convenient form, but we are able to appear in many forms, but I suspect having a dragon on your shoulder is little too obvious and, while at school, people _expect_ you to have books. Just a little more weight in your bag, but not much, I'm sure."_

"You…" Joad was angry; this was not just a twinge of annoyance, oh no, this was the real burning loathing. She had been wrenched from her home, taken without warning or thought by this being _hiding_ inside a book, _hiding_ like a coward where she could not reach him. The book trembled. It took all of her will power to not tear at its pages.

"_I know, I know, I'm a vile, evil thing that has no right to take you places you didn't want to go blah blah bah. Save your breath Joad, I've heard it before. Now, to get through this, I will have to help you."_

"What kind of game are you playing?"

"_A game? Why Joad, I overestimated you. This is no game. Treat it more like one of your hunts, but add a little bit of…_human_ flavor to your style. After all, you do have to work with other people."_

"I'm listening."

"_Excellent."_ Joad could imagine some foul-looking man rubbing his greasy ill-kept hands together in glee. This was a game and she was a pawn. There was no way around it.

Joad's magic abilities improved. They were not hers, the book explained to her – she had not an ounce of magic blood in her – they were merely on loan for the time being. Her teachers were delighted: "My, now that you've come out of your shell, you certainly do have talent!" "I knew you could do it!" "You definitely have improved, Miss Teff."

Also, for the first time, Joad's smile did not look like a tortured grimace when she plastered it on. The book had promised her that when she was done here, at the end of the school year, she could go home, just like all the other students. That was why she smiled; she did not care for the jokes, the praise, the food (though it was better than anything she had eaten before). There was nothing in this school for her.

"_No, you fool, you're going about it all wrong! Enjoy yourself; learn to be a _human_ for once. Your have the rest of your life to be a machine."_ The book was frustrated, she could tell.

"Do you expect me to throw years of training out the window?"

"_No."_

"How should I behave?"

"_Look around you."_

"Crude jokes, rivalry eating my insides, false friendships? Is that how normal people are? Emotions are stupid, they make you do things."

"_How eloquent."_ And it refused to say more.

Joad, the lurker of quiet and private places, ate faster than anyone during lunch and often took part of it with her to the library, sneaking it past the scrutiny of the librarian. The library remained her refuge from the world, which she would have to face and be "human." She hated that, how the book asked her to be human. She was human. She bled, cried, felt happiness and anger; her only difference was that she could control these habits.

She was reading in her favorite nook, a sheltered, arch shaped alcove that looked as though it had once held a statue, long gone now and replaced with a cushion, when she heard approaching voices.

"That Snape," growled one. "Just who does he think he is? He took off points without even knowing why. What a dunce, what a big, fat-"

"He took off points" interrupted a new voice smartly, "precisely because you were calling him names."

"They're true and he knows it."

The content could have belonged to any non-Slytherin student so Joad had not the faintest idea who they belonged to until they came with into sight. She saw them, they saw her, and for a long time no one moved.

Ron Weasly stepped away from the other Gryffindors, a group consisting of Harry, Hermione, and Nick from America. (Authors note: sadly Victor will not be joining us because he graduated and when you graduate why on earth would you go back to school?).

"So, you can beat me at anything." He seemed angry at her, while he should have simply been angry at Malfoy.

"Draco said that," she said, "not I."

"Oh, I'm surprised it's not _Dracie_ by now." No one joined his laughter. Hermione was glowering at him, Harry was starring intently at Joad, and Nick was looking a little pale.

Joad was having trouble understanding his emotions. "Why should it be? Unless your friends call you Ronnie."

"Ron," pleaded Hermione, stepping to intervene. "Please, that was Malfoy's boast, not hers. Besides, you insulted her first." She turned from a slightly embarrassed looking Ron to Joad. "I'm sorry we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Hermione Granger, this tactless boy is Ron Weasly, this is Harry Potter, and this is Nick Scythe, but I suppose that you two already know each other. I'm sorry about Ron and what he said about you that one day; you're doing very well now, very well. Yes, and we already know who you are."

Joad hesitated before speaking, then she stood up out of her alcove and tried a small smile. "Finally, someone who talks sense in this school. I was beginning to think you were all crazy…or wand happy. Do all Gryffindor boys introduce themselves by asking to fight?" Harry scowled; he had a peculiar look on his face, studying her with dislike. His hand reached up to rub his scar.

"Now look, she's gone and gotten the wrong impression."

"It's alright." Joad managed to bite her tongue in time to prevent herself from saying she was used to it.

Awkward silence.

"I know what you're wondering Potter," she whispered finally, fiercely. When she had first read the book, she had learned all about the famous Harry Potter and his recent exploits. She knew what he thought of Slytherins, but she was not sure why she wanted to prove herself to him. Her principals were too high to join up with anyone like Voldemort, and for some reason she had a burning desire to prove that to them. The silence was no longer awkward, but tense and apprehensive. "I know what you all want to know, about everyone you meet. Don't limit your horizons to Slytherins mind you; there have been…other kinds of people who betray their friends." And she wrenched up her sleeve to show them her milky-white scar-free skin.

A collective breath was expelled.

"Now, I think, we should reintroduce ourselves. I'm Joad Teff, exchange student from New Zealand and a Slytherin."

Hermione caught on first. "I see, a fresh start, what a good idea. I'm Hermione Granger." They shook hands. She elbowed Ron in the side.

"Ow! This is stu- ow! Fine. Ron." The shook, gripping each others hands extra hard.

"Harry." They leaned towards each other to shake, but never touched each other. Nick did something peculiar, no, worse than peculiar.

Nick staggered sideways, falling against a chair gracelessly, gripping its back for support. His eyes rolled wildly in their sockets and made a terrible gagging noise. No one knew what to do. Then he spoke, in a deep raspy voice. The lights in the room seemed to dim around them and the walls leaned in to hear what he had to say. He seemed to grow in size, seeming to tower over them and energy seemed to crackle in his hair. He said:

"Record this, my friends. What I have to say should not be lost."

No one moved until Hermione snatched a parchment and pen. By the time she was ready Nick had already begun to speak again.

"Four companions their friendship long,

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs,

Three were strong but one was weak,

The untrue friend the fatal leak,

The rat the coward liar snag

Betrayed them all, killed the stag,

But of a sudden, destroyed, was the power he served,

So he blamed the dog and tricked the world.

Crushed was the twisted, the evil undone,

By the flower who died with love for her son,

The boy who lived, who dared to remain,

Would best him thrice and twice again.

But this is past and now I see,

What is to come, what is to be.

The scorpion will fail,

The anole will pay,

The cat will fly,

The bat will slay.

Cold fingers will twist and prod into dreams,

Defenses will fail under white magic's beams.

The second war will be begun,

But what of the four reduced by two?

Those that remain will be made into one

For Four-paws will die for you.

The SOD will be broken by evil hands,

To seize the shadows,

To turn the minds,

To rule, to squeeze, to call, to bind,

Darkness will rise,

For the one who broke it

And woe"

The world snapped back into reality. The sun existed again, or had it been there all along? A bird chipped outside the window and voices streamed to them from a distance hallway, a distant world. Nick straightened as if nothing had ever happened. He saw them all looking at him, mouths open in shock.

"What?"


End file.
